Thursday, February 24, 2011

I sure tried...

...to go to work today, but I slept most of the day instead. Right now, I've been upright for the longest time since my failed attempt to go to work. I don't know what I have, but it's seriously kicking my butt.

I got home from work around 4:30 and promptly went to bed after assuring Mister I still had a job (more later, like I said). Although I had only intended to take a short nap, I didn't wake up until sometime in the 8pm hour. Mister heated up my soup and gave me a bottle of vitamin-enhanced water; I ate, drank, blogged, and went back to bed. I got up at 7ish this morning and after failing my valiant attempts to shower and dress for about 2 hours, I went back to bed...until 2pm. Made and ate some cinnamon-date oatmeal, then took a nap on the couch (I'm so glad we have a couch again). Mister made me more soup; ate it, drank more vitamin-enhanced water, and went back to sleep. About an hour ago, Mister made me a "sausage" sandwich and gave me a bottle of V8. As soon as I finish the V8, would you like to guess what I'm doing?

Some fun highlights of my otherwise unconscious day? While I was still trying to go to work this morning, I was treated to an amusing and slightly heart-stopping show of kitty gymnastics.

That's the top shelf of a presently-unsecured, and mostly-empty 6-shelf bookcase. That is the ceiling. That is Angst. Shortly after I took this picture, he realized he had no idea how to get down. Fortunately, he did recognize the harm he would do to himself if he tried to jump to the hardwood floor from that height.

Sometime this afternoon, after soup and before sandwich, Mister went back to the old apt because we still have some stuff to move and throw away and it's trash night. He returned with our DVD/VHS player (yes, that's what I said) and a stack of movies for me to continue to lie on my side/back and watch.

How I'm getting most of my sustenance ^ through liquids. That is box number #2 of tissues. My nose hates me. On that note, I think I need a nap.